


A special gift

by AthriaLucifera



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Daddy Issues, Family Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Rewriting A Scene, Samulet (Supernatural)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-11 07:34:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,121
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28347726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AthriaLucifera/pseuds/AthriaLucifera
Summary: Sam gives the amulet to Dean, same scene but differently written. It's a translation of a one-shot I wrote years ago for school.
Kudos: 2





	A special gift

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys!  
> First of all, I'm French. So if you spot any mistake or spelling error feel free to point it out so I won't make it next time.  
> I will put some of my works here but you can find all of them on FF.net and Wattpad. My name is Lysifer on both sites.  
> I hope you enjoy this OS!
> 
> -Lys

Snowflakes were falling hard. The ground was covered by a thick white blanket which reverberated the lights of the shabby hotel. Sam was staring outside the window, hoping to see his father coming back. His fingers held on tightly to the gift that he had wrapped with Bobby's help. As usual, John was playing hard to get on Christmas Eve.

Sam couldn't remember the last time they shared a proper meal on this special day. Sure, Uncle Bobby made the best burgers and fries, but it didn't match what the other kids had. He felt suddenly jealous. They were unaware, innocent, pure. They could laugh, enjoy every little moment, dream about a bright future, be happy. He couldn't. Not now that he knew what his father was doing all this time. He lied to him for years.

However, some part of him understood why. Dean had to grow up fast. He was looking after him since he was four years old. He admired his brother because he was tough, strong, protective, and brave. Nothing seemed able to deter him. Not even the fact that their father was absent once again.

Dean stole glances from time to time at his younger brother. The tv was playing some ludicrous Christmas movie he had no interest in. Guilt clawed at him whenever he looked at Sam. He had lie to him so many times on John's account. The truth broke something. The questions were what did it broke? And what would come out of it? Deep inside him, Dean knew that he was unable to fix it. He sighed deeply. When did he become so pessimistic?

"You're gonna burn your eyes staring at the snow like this, Sammy." Remarked the older one, an amused smile on his lips.

"Sam" Hissed his brother, his chin resting upon the window sill.

"He will come back, don't worry."

His reassuring voice hid his doubt. Dean always feared a call from Uncle Bobby to announce that his father would never come back. Being a hunter meant death one day or another. Life was unfair for those who fought against evil. The sweet irony made him huff internally. If God existed, he had a debatable sense of humor. The clock rang at midnight.

"You should go to bed." He stated matter-of-factly.

"No." The firm answer took Dean aback.

Silence fell upon the room, embracing the brothers with its chokehold. Dean sighed deeply, sitting up on the sofa to take a proper look at Sam. His vibrant green eyes held an infinite tenderness, hidden under layers of tiredness and resignation. Sam asserted himself more each passing day. He didn't hesitate to argue with John. Their arguments became more heated as he grew older. Thanks to their common stubbornness.

"Don't talk back Sammy. It's already passed curfew."

"For you as well." Fired back the younger one.

Dean was somewhere in between affliction and admiration. His lips pressed in a thin line, he was mad at John for giving him the bad role.

"You have one hour before we both go to bed." Conceded Dean.

A bright smile illuminated his brother's face, reaching his big doe eyes. He stood up and sat next to him. He couldn't miss on the rare occasion. Normally, Dean would stay up for hours, waiting for John or watching cartoons until he fell asleep.

"He'll love it for sure." He said quietly, looking at the gift in Sam's hands.

Sam shifted uncomfortably. He felt terrible to not have any present for his big brother even though he deserved a pile of them to put up with him every day. Uncle Bobby said that the necklace could protect its owner. Out of everyone, Dean was the one he wanted to protect fiercely. Sam wasn't strong enough to do it just yet, but one day that will be the case. He promised himself to always have Dean's back, no matter what.

"Here, take it." Handing him the gift.

"No, I can't. It's for dad, not for me." Countered Dean, somewhat dumbfounded by his brother's choice.

"Merry Christmas, Dean!" Exclaimed Sam, not taking no for an answer.

Dean took the gift carefully, unsure of how to feel about the gesture. Sure he was happy and grateful but some part of him couldn't enjoy it fully. A smile stretched his lips in a wide grin. The necklace wasn't what he had expected. It was a sculpted face that reminded him of some ancient Egyptian representation. Horns protruded from its forehead which was spiraling in a sort of loop. The jewel was oddly warm in his hand. Without any hesitation, Dean attached the necklace around his neck.

"Thank you, Sam." He beamed. "Now, close your eyes."

Sam did what he was told, impatience coursing through his veins. He struggled to keep still, his knees bounced slightly and he held his breath for a second. Dean placed something rather heavy on his lap. He tried to guess what it was but couldn't settle for a satisfying answer. He finally opened his eyes to discover an ancient book. He smelled like oil and dust like Bobby. It was some sort of supernatural dictionary. A way to introduce him to the hunter world.

"Thanks, Dean, that's super cool!" Sam exclaimed joyfully.

For the first time in ages, the Winchester brothers hugged. They held each other for some time. A silent promise to look out for each other.

John was fighting to keep his eyes open. Nightmares of this tragic night came rushing back to him. The flames, the heat, Mary's body on the ceiling. It was torture, but he needed to remember to move on. He felt that he was close to finding the truth. The answers he was seeking were only at arm's reach. That was the finish line. He couldn't stop now.

He sat up properly. The light pierced through the curtains of their room. Culpability restrained his chest painfully. His vengeance made him forget what was important. Dean and Sam. He got out of the car, bag in his hands, and locked it.

Dean's wary glare welcomed him. John glanced at Sam's sleeping form. Slight snores broke the tense silence. He put his bag down and opened the fridge. Empty.

"You forgot to do grocery before living." Dean's sharp voice slapped him.

"I'll go tomorrow." John sighed.

"Sam waited for you. I hope you have a gift to make it up."

Dean didn't wait for a reply and shut the light, back facing his father. He held on tightly to the amulet around his neck.

John spent the night watching over his children. They would understand someday why he acted this way. The question was: would they forgive him in the end?


End file.
